Can't Lose You
by Chaser-Cya
Summary: A suicide/death ficcy about Duo. Duo fights with the image in the mirror.


Title: Can't Lose You  
  
Author: Chaser  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own this or anything else for that matter. Sad I know… Title is from a Type O Negative song; I don't own either.  
  
Warnings: Slight insanity, self-mutilation, yeah that about covers it.  
  
Pairings: None  
  
Author notes: The speaker is Duo  
  
Ok the only other thing I can say is that listening to Kittie's song paper doll produced a death/suicide/angst plot bunny from hell.  
  
Archive: If you want it you can have it, Just tell me where.  
  
Feedback: If you feel like, flames and other sharp harmful objects excepted but not encouraged.  
  
1 Can't Lose You  
  
  
  
Walking home tears stained my face yet again. Why do I let myself be the one who gets hurt all the time? Why is it that I am always the one who ends up walking the streets in the middle of the night?  
  
They all are the same; they all do this to me. It is my fault, all my fault. I let them do this to me. I let them use me. I am just their toy. A momentary play thing, nothing more, sometimes less.  
  
Wrapping my arms around myself I walk. Maybe I can hold it together just a bit longer. Maybe if I hold myself tight enough I will awake from my nightmare, to the safety of my mothers' arms. I long to be in her arms once again. To be cradled and told I was gonna be a superstar one day.  
  
If she only knew her baby boy was not the superstar she dreamed he would be. Not a doctor, lawyer, professional athlete, nothing. Mother I have failed you. I have done nothing you said I would one day. I have not only failed you but I have disgraced you. Mommy can you forgive me? Mommy I am scared. I need you. Mommy I have fallen. I've fallen badly; I'm lost mommy. Mommy I'm whore…  
  
"Mommy isn't here, she can't help you now. She can never help you." The voice inside my head tells me. The voice is bitter and raspy. Years of crying, begging, pleading, screaming have worn it down to a near whisper. Closing my eyes I know it is right. I am alone. Mommy is just the only thing I could cling to in my time of need but she too; like all others I have met in my lifetime; has left me.  
  
My steps are heavy and quick. I can see my apartment from down the block. Just a few more steps and I will be safe. I will be safe. Safe from the people, from all those who use me. All those who lie to me, all those who hurt me. Before I can reach the sanctity of my apartment, I am confronted with more of these demons. They see me and call to me. "How much? Wanna have some fun? Hey sweet thing wanna make a quick 50?"  
  
The demons are surrounding me, I can feel them clawing at my flesh. Hugging my body tighter my walk becomes a run. My blood is pumping through my veins like an out of control train while my heart beats in my ears like a tribal drum. The noise it's deafening. Must get away. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me!" I cry into the night.  
  
My apartment is dark and empty. The walls are gray from the cigarette smoke. The paint is chipped and peeling. The kitchen has dishes piled up from the days before while the one room is furnished with only a dirty mattress. Dented with the forms of the many who have come before. I can see them. I can smell them all around me. The musty smell of brought sex fills my nostrils and my stomach retches. This is my existence. This is my life.  
  
Throwing off my thin jacket. Standing in front of the only mirror I own, I begin to undress myself. My skin is a pale shade of yellow. Purple circles stain the skin. Removing my tight fake leather pants I can see the marks of a night ill spent.  
  
I am dirty. I am used. I am worthless. Look at me, look at what you have become. I turn slightly to the right to get a look at my backside. It is still red and sore from the abuse I have put it through this evening.  
  
"How many tonight? How many did you let touch you?" the image in the mirror asks me.  
  
" I don't know. I had to; I have to pay rent. I have to live." I tell him back.  
  
" Live?… is that what we are calling it now? How many of them did you let use you?" he demands.  
  
I can feel my eyes burn with the onslaught of fresh tears. " I had to." I cry. " I have no other choice."  
  
" You disgust me. Look at you! You're a whore! A cheap imitation of life, look what you have done to me!" The image in the mirror removes the many bangle bracelets he wears on his left arm and the one band on the right. Lifting his arms he shows me his scars. "Look at me! Look at what you have done to me!" the image screams at me.  
  
I turn my face. I don't want to see. Looking down I see my arms. They bear the same scars. The same pain we share. Terrified I begin to shake. " I didn't…I didn't…I couldn't…" I stutter.  
  
" You did and you have." He screams at me.  
  
"NO!" I cry.  
  
I can see him move away from me. Slowly he backs away. " I won't let you hurt me!" He says as he produces a small knife from what seemed like thin air. "Mommy can't help me now." He say as I watch in horror as he begins to slit his wrists.  
  
" I won't let you hurt me anymore! You let them abuse me. You let them touch me! They fuck me and you let them!" he continues to scream as he slashes deeper into his arms.  
  
I scream for him to stop. " Stop! NO!! I can stop them! I'll change! I promise! STOP!" I scream; until my voice is no more; at the image in the mirror as the blood begins to run down his legs in a thick red stream.  
  
" You can't stop them. You're too weak! You'll never change! You're a whore! A whore! A WHORE! A WHORE!!!" he yells.  
  
The knife cuts into his chest. He craves into it like one would crave into a turkey at thanksgiving. Twisting and turning creating a pattern of red lines across the once pale yellow skin.  
  
I cry and begin to pound on the glass. I have to stop him. He is dying. I scream for him to stop. Pleading with him. I tell him he has worth. That I can change for him. I tell him I'm sorry. I tell him not to leave me.  
  
" I don't want to be alone." I whisper as I slide down the front of the mirror.  
  
" You did this to me." He says as he runs his blood soaked hands across his face.  
  
" I'm sorry…don't leave me." I choke out.  
  
" YOU DID THIS TO ME!" he screams.  
  
" I can help you…please don't leave me alone." I whisper as I press my hands on the glass to reach him.  
  
The image tilts his head and moves back to the front of the mirror. I can clearly see his self-inflicted wounds. He places his hands atop of mine. I can feel the warmth of his touch. He is still alive. I can help him. Our hands blend into one another. 'I will reach him.' I say to myself.  
  
I can feel the glass disappearing and our hands touch. I am with him now in the mirror. He helps me up and pulls in into a bloody embrace. " I can help you. I will change." I say as he holds me in his crimson stained arms.  
  
He strokes my hair. Releasing it from the ponytail holder that held it high atop my head. " You can not change what you are." He whispers.  
  
" I will change. I will change for you."  
  
"I wish that were true. You can't, You don't love me. You don't love yourself." He said softly as he stroked my head once more and pushed me away.  
  
I tried to grab at him. I couldn't let him get away from me. I needed him. Yet I couldn't find the voice to tell him so.  
  
" If you loved me you wouldn't hurt me…goodbye." He said as he forcefully pushed me back through the glass mirror.  
  
The glass doesn't shatter as my body collides with it. I landed in a sitting position and quickly struggled to stand. I was going to go back in to get him. I could see him fading away into the darkness. When I placed my hands on the mirror it shattered.  
  
I covered my face from the flying shards of glass.  
  
The image was gone. I could see his face in the larger pieces of broken glass as they littered the floor beneath me. Reaching down I picked up a piece of the glass. I saw him. He was looking at me. I was crying, he was me.  
  
Looking down I saw that it was my arms that were bloody, my exposed chest that was cut open and still seeping my life's essence. 'He was me and I was him. He was me; that was me I saw.' I thought before my body became increasing weak so much that I slumped over onto the many pieces of sharp glass fragments. I could feel the points of the glass cutting into unbroken skin and digging into already open wounds.  
  
Funny thing is my last thoughts as my vision blurred and the darkness became more overpowering, was of my mother.  
  
" Mommy I'm sorry. Forgive me for I have sinned."  
  
End. 


End file.
